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“Well, then, you won’t mind if I use a little insurance so you won’t both have your way with me,” she said as she pulled a pistol out from between the cushions of the recliner. “Put your guns on the bed – slowly. And far enough away that I don’t have to worry about you gettin’ an itchy trigger finger.”
Jack complied. I grumbled, but tossed my .38 on the bed near the pillows.
“Much obliged. Pigpen and Zed, you boys can take off. Why don’t you head back to that Dairy Queen off the interstate and get me a Blizzard.” She winked at me. “A girl likes to cheat every once in a while.”
The two thugs hid their shotguns in their leather vests and strolled past us out of the room. We waited until we heard the explosive brm-Brm-BRRRRM of their Harleys roaring out of the parking lot.
Sloane smiled. “So… what have you got for me, Jackie boy?”
62
“Well,” Jack said, “you obviously heard about Lou.”
“Yeah, I’m real sorry about that, hon,” Sloane drawled. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but… aw, fuck it, yeah I do: I told you so.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jack grumbled.
Sloane turned to me. “I told Jack from the time he got elected president, ‘If you want to go changin’ shit up in the MC, you better make sure Lou Shaw gets fitted for a pair of concrete shoes, or that sum’bitch is likely to come back and bite you in the ass.’ Which he did,” she said, looking at Jack accusingly.
“Moving on,” Jack said.
“Moving on to what?”
“I want the Midnight Riders back.”
“Well I want the Hope Diamond, darlin’, but I don’t see it droppin’ out of the sky any time soon, ‘less God decides he wants the best blow job ever.” Sloane turned back to me. “That reminds me of a joke I heard. What’s white ‘n creamy ‘n drips from the sky?”
She didn’t even pause long enough for me to answer.
“The Comin’ of the Lord,” she said. “What’s white ‘n creamy ‘n drips from the sky, but not as much? The Second Comin’.”
Then she gave a combination giggle/cackle, and shook her head. “Oh Lord, I loooove that joke.”
I couldn’t decide if she was insanely sexual, or just insane. Probably both.
Definitely sacrilegious.
“Can we get down to business?” Jack asked, impatient.
She sighed and looked at Jack’s crotch again. “I wish we could get down to somethin’ else.”
Now Jack was getting pissed. “Sloane – ”
“Don’t worry,” she teased, winking at me. “I’ll share.”
Now Jack’s temper flared. “I didn’t call you here for a bunch of sex talk.”
“No, you apparently called me for a bunch ‘a bullshit,” she snapped, and suddenly she was all steel and razor blades. “I’m doin’ 1.5 million a month out of Phoenix in meth and coke, and I’m fightin’ off the Santa fuckin’ Muertes every step of the goddamn way. You show up on my doorstep with a fuckin’ weed operation – and you’re not even close to bein’ a major player in Cali, since the dispensaries can get their shit from Oregon and Washington state if they don’t wanna deal with your second-class hippie operation. So you’re basically a two-bit extra who got kicked out on his ass, and you want my help to topple the guy who done it, at substantial risk to me and my organization, even though you ain’t got nowhere near enough nickels to rub together to pay for my time. Not to mention the fact that you got handed your ass without a fuckin’ bullet fired, which means your weakness? It’s like blood in the water. If’n you do get rid of Lou and take back the Midnight Riders, the Santa Muertes are gonna come eat your ass like Great White sharks makin’ a buffet outta fat people. Now, did I miss somethin’ in there, or do you want to correct my first impression?”
God DAMN.
“Apparently we’re not just a weed operation anymore. Lou’s got a meth lab I didn’t know about,” he said.
“Well whoop-de-doo for Lou.”
Jack grimaced. “And there’s one more detail you might want to know about.”
“And what is that.”
